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Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Diana Takes a New Wallet (and the Granny Panties of All Billfolds)

"Is that your wallet?" The high pitch of her squeal clangs against the background noise of the restaurant, ricocheting off the empty bowls that had once held pasta and piercing through intimate conversations between couples sharing half-melted scoops of olive oil gelato.

I glance down at my oversized wallet that she's appraising with the look of a mother about to scold her daughter for chewing with her mouth open.

"What's wrong with it?" I ask as I shove my credit card back into one of the 17 different slots for cards.

She inhales slowly as though she doesn't even know where to begin. I can see the mental list of offenses she's ticking off in her head as she continues to observe the graying pink leather with a stern eye. I instinctively cover the wallet with a protective hand.

"Don't tell me you took that... thing out on your date!" She finally exhales as she tucks her steamlined black power wallet back into her bag.

"WHY DO YOU NEED A BED, BATH & BEYOND GIFT CARD?" To her this is a far graver offense than having a Blockbuster card after the year 1995.

"I don't know..." I respond sheepishly, suddenly wondering if it's weird that I have a Sprinkles Cupcake gift card and Native Foods club card in there also.

"That's it, I'm getting you a new wallet," She declares with finality. "Don't take that thing out anymore."

I think she's half-joking until the next week when I get an email from her asking when I'm free. She's bought me a new "summer wallet" and needs to give it to me immediately so I can cease carrying around the granny panties of all billfolds. The reason why I must still be single (more on that later).

"Now go clean out all those receipts and candy wrappers and stray quarters," She instructs as she slips the slim black Barney's New York box into my outstretched hand. "NO BED BATH & BEYOND GIFT CARD!"

"But what if I need to buy a new shower curtain?" I protest, momentarily paralyzed by the thought.

She shoots me a warning look, her lips poised in a tight knot. I half expect her to start counting to 10 before punishing me with a time out.

Shamed into silence, I nod obediently, and peel back the tissue paper to reveal the grown-up wallet that she's convinced will change my relationship status on Facebook. It's an electric shade of pink with a polka-dot lining, and contains only 8 slots for cards. Streamlined and efficient. Practical with personality.

yeah, what weezermoney said, she is good friend and such nice cuticles too. She doesn't have a power wallet. It's an ugly utilitarian number that never gets to party. We likewise demand the before pic (without makeup or highlights) and a shot of the "after" wallet in your hand like you're running out to the store to grab a few ummm gallons of quinoa, all jaunty like.

About Me

Maybe it was during my trip to NYC in July, 2006 when my older brother took me on a culinary tour of the city. Or maybe it was when I discovered that steak tastes better when not charred black. Or maybe it was present all along -- just waiting for the right moment to spring forth.
Some may call it obsession, others might call it gluttony, but I call it passion. My name is Diana, and I love food.